I was born barefoot
And learned to walk on rocks,
And hot pavement,
Stubbed my toes a lot,
And packed them with red soil
To heal in soft earth.
Tough Samoan feet
That felt hot in shoes
And didn’t fit the narrow, prissy,
Slender girl look.
“Wide!”
I said with pride,
“With rubber tips” that could
Scuffle and kick
Like the best of boys,
My feet took a beating.
But in summer,
They found the shapes of trees
With toes that gripped
The coconut, papaya, mango, guava trunks,
I was the mastermind of gathering fruit
With bulging shirt in teeth
Climbing over fences,
Pedaling bikes,
A solid, fast get-away.
I was told,
“Stay outside, your feet are dirty”
And I did.
Who wants lacy white socks that itch,
Or ugly pointed shoes that pinch?
I was born barefoot,
And was proud of it.
March 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 @ 01:46:15
❤
Mar 30, 2015 @ 17:18:50
Good stuff
Mar 30, 2015 @ 19:03:34
Thanks 🙂